Tease
by Rizzy.and.Izzy
Summary: "This might seem like teasing to her, although I'm sure right now her mind is leaning more towards torture. Sweet, sweet torture." Jane's POV. One-shot. Rated M. :)


_Not much to say about this one. Hope you like it!_

_Shoutouts! Infinite thanks to my sociallyawkwardpenguin, your kindness knows no bounds._

_Slightly inspired by one of cupoftea1's stories. :) You are a great writer._

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I'm a tease. I know it and I don't care. You don't get it. You don't get it because you can't hear the way she'll drag out my name begging me to just do it. You don't get it because you can't feel the way she'll desperately try to bring it on herself. Oh, it doesn't work like that, Maur. You won't get it. Not now anyway.

She pleads with me with her eyes. Looks at me like this is the one thing she has ever wanted in the world. The one thing in the world that only I can give her. She'll try to move her body ever so slightly closer to mine. Harder against mine. Trying to deceive me into thinking she isn't moving at all. Oh, I know what you're doing, Maur.

This might seem like teasing to her, although I'm sure right now her mind is leaning more towards torture. Sweet, sweet torture. For me this is my favorite form of foreplay. Ever since that night when I finally showed her that she can free herself from the last shreds of composure she'd been grasping, she hasn't looked back. And tonight I want to show her exactly how far I can take her. How far she'll let me take her. Honestly, how far I can take myself.

Tonight we are in need of no toys. Maur never wastes a chance to tell me she loves my fingers. Loves my hands. Loves what they can do when they've been waiting patiently, begging for a chance to play. Tonight, they will have their fun.

It is not my intention to be this mean, you have to believe me. See, ordinarily I would be having one of my very playful hands squeezing Maura's breasts, but I've found that is not entirely safe anymore either. Maura, clever woman that she is, has a found a way to (or always could and just kept it from me that long) orgasm from just that alone. Listen to me, talking like her now. Fuck, thinking like her now. Let's try that one again, she could come just from me grabbing her tits.

This woman never stops amazing me. I keep making it a point to ask her if it's just because she's so amazing, or if any woman can do that. Any meaning me. But I don't know if it has to do with size or not. And I don't want her to know that I care about things like that. I'm perfectly adequate for my body frame, thank you very much.

Look at me, teasing you as much as I'm teasing Maur. Now back to her. She has this look on her face like, "Jane I swear, if you do not do this now, I will never stop my Google-mouth and you know I can do it in a way that is not attractive." Believe me, she can. The least sexiest thing ever. I thought her overly-descriptive dirty talk was bad. Her neverending Google-mouth beats all.

I try to shoot her a look that says, "If you dare, I will never speak during sex again." That does it. Her body stills and gives in to its fate. She will be mine tonight. All fucking mine, and in my time. You see, that's what does it for her. But this I knew weeks ago. My voice and only just a little bit of encouragement from my fingers and she is off like a rocket. I don't even need to break out my really good dirty talk. The kind that could win me awards. If they gave awards for that kind of thing. Mental note, see if they do. :)

Okay, now even I'm getting desperate. I think I've teased this beautiful woman more than enough. This woman beneath me, aching just for me. God, life is good. She is mine. She is perfect and she is still moaning my name and she is mine. And I have to get her off or she will murder me when it's her turn.

I quicken my pace and good lord if her face doesn't resemble a kid at Christmas. She looks like she has just gotten the one thing in the world she wanted the most. A Christmas list with dozens of items on it, but hidden among all those items is the one thing she has really wanted. Written in scratchy writing, almost too small to see. Written as if it were wanted so much that to fully hope for it would be too risky just in case it wasn't gotten. So squinting my eyes, seeing the tiny faint lettering coming closer and closer into view, I give her that which she is almost too scared to ask for.

I quicken my pace almost to the point where I can't sustain it. I hold, grab, squeeze her breast with my free hand. Lick, kiss, bite with my mouth. I give her my all. I give it all to her. All that I had been restraining. All that I had been waiting to give to her until this very moment.

Now who is the kid at Christmas? Now who is the one with the huge grin on her face? Me, that's who. Yeah, yeah, I know. That analogy is way too overused as it is. Well, consider me guilty of it now, too. And yeah, I know what you're thinking. Did Maur ever even have a Christmas? A real Christmas. She has now since she's been with me. Now, get out of my thoughts and let me finish here before my hand goes numb.

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